


in regards to hate

by anto_txt



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Denial, Language, M/M, POV Yuri, POV Yurio, Russian, Swearing, Victuri, Vikturi, Vikturio, Yuri, Yurio, missing moment, victor x yurio, victurio, viktor x yurio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8396206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anto_txt/pseuds/anto_txt
Summary: "Yuratchka, you're being childish.""Victor, I am a child."





	1. Chapter 1

"Good, very good. There is definitely some progress there, Yuuri! Your last Salchow was admirable. You can call it a day, well done."  
"T-Thank you, Victor!"  
" _Skuchnij..._ "  
  
I speak Russian all the time during our training because I want Pork Cutlet to feel left out, but he doesn't seem to suffer the blow in the slightest. Which in return makes me even more exasperated and willing to punch him in the face until he becomes even uglier, then back to step one and repeat.  
Most of the times he would just shrug, smile awkwardly, even blush like a little girl, and I don't believe for a second he's not offended. He must be doing it just to keep appearances immaculated in front of Victor, playing the part of the goodie-two-shoes so disciplined he would never - _ever!_ \- respond to childish provocations.  
  
"It's not very nice of you, to speak in such manner poor Yuuri cannot understand what's going on half of the time, Yurio."  
  
Staring back at him in fake dismay, blinking fast and open arms, I portray a whole new level of: _please admire the gigantic amount of fucks I give_.  
  
"Well guess what, I want _you_ to understand what I say, not Piggy."  
"Well guess what, _I_ might be not interested in what you say."  
I am seriously quitting figure skating to become world champion of boxing at this rate.  
"Yuuri, he just said that this is boring. Nothing nice or fascinating. I will translate for you when Yurio can't be bothered to show his sweet side."  
"Guys, it's fine, really--", _oh just shut the fuck up and get angry._  
"I don't have a sweet side!"  
"...Unfortunately, I know that all too well, Yurio."  
  
I tend to forget that, since he's gotten so close to Piggy, Victor has turned more and more soft. Not that I've known him for real before, but he always gave off the vibe of the cool, untouchable emperor of ice while, in actuality, he appears to have a weak spot for retarded fat dorks.  
Being the polar opposite of a retarded fat dork, my best option is switching to _prodigy disciple mode_.  
  
"So, Victor, how did you like my performance? Didn't I do well too?"  
"Yuuri", _did he just fucking ignore me completely,_ "Do you mind going ahead? I need a couple of words with Yurio", _oh, I guess he doesn't want to discourage his beloved Katsudon too much with compliments to me_ , "Actually, wait, I'll see you off. Be right back."  
  
He takes his sweet time coming back to me. I bet they were flirting again and shit or something. _Bljad'._  
"Say, Yurio... If I were to figuratively describe my expectations right now, I'd picture young little Vitya opening a tin of Danish butter biscuits only to find sewing tools."  
As I feel my heart sink, I realise I've come to hate his caustic sarcasm more than damn Yuuri himself.  
"I don't understand what I did wrong", I'm lying. I was so distracted _watching him_ not _watching me_ , my free leg was a mess and I fucked up the last part. I know that.  
"Your free leg was really unstable", _yeah, yeah_ , "and as usual, when you start running out of stamina the whole movement feels mediocre and unprecise. It was just a very underwhelming five minutes, that's all."  
"Yuuri was worse. His performance was much messier than mine."  
"I thought we were talking about your performance, not Yuuri's?"  
"Well you said I was bad, but he was worse and you still praised him!"  
"Are you putting yourself, _a professional_ , on the same level as a novice?"  
  
In my mind, I just punched him so hard he forgot what a katsudon is. _Ka-pow_.  
  
"I don't want to perform to that shit. I want to dance to Eros. That Agape is so slow and boring I can't even be bothered to do better, I'll end up falling asleep in the middle of the rink, I'm telling you."  
"Which would just mean you've done a really poor job at being spectacular and doing justice to a very beautiful piece of music, Yurio."  
"...It is ugly."  
"No, _you_ are.", _EXCUSE ME?_ , "And that's what makes the piece ugly too, consequentially."  
  
I've never laughed harder in my life.  
  
"Yeah I'm ugly. Definitely", _how do you dare_ , "You just want me to lose", _who do you think you are_ , "So you can kick me out of here and get chummy with the fatso all you want."  
"Yurio, watch your mouth. You're making very compromising assumptions."  
"See? You don't even deny it."  
"Are you really implying I am being biased?"  
"I am implying you don't give a shit about figure skating and you just want to get laid."    
  
The impact of the back of Victor's hand against my right cheek resonates back and forth the arena long enough for me to feel stupid, hurt, ashamed and homicidal all at once. The change in temperature where he hit me is so dramatic I can feel the red all the way through my leather glove.  
The look of disappointment and vexation in his eyes is the coldest winter of my fifteen years.  
First I shiver, then I recoil. _That's it._  
My hands reach for the balustrade and I quit the rink out of rage and frustration at their purest form. I don't even remember seeing myself take the blades off, I'm moving so quick and glitchy I find myself catapulted in the locker room in a matter of seconds.  
And I'm still trying to figure out how it is even possible that Victor slapped me in the face when he appears on the doorway, sits down calmly, getting changed in a clean t-shirt like nothing happened at all.  
  
"It looks like I overestimated both your skills and your discerning abilities. My mistake. I clearly miscalculated", _eh?_ , "Don't even bother coming in, tomorrow. All circumstances considered, I do not intend to coach you any longer even if you were to win against Yuuri by some miracle." _Eh?_  
  
" _Nezrelij_ ", _No, no, no, no._ "You're unripe."  
  
"You never gave half a shit about me", _when did I jump up?_ "You promised", _when did I start shouting?_ "You promised you'd coach me for my debut, you promised!"  
_I'm done for, I'm done for, my whole life is done for._  
"Please, go back to Russia.", _my head's spinning._  
"Liar", _when did I punch the locker?_ "You fucking liar!"  
"Whatever you like to think."  
  
I'm a tiger in a cage and the tamer wants me dead by the end of this show.  
  
"I am better than him in every aspect, I _move_ better, I _learn_ better, audiences _like me_ better, why won't you just let me dance to Eros?!"  
"Because you don't have what it takes. You should have learnt the Agape, which I had picked for you personally, and shown me what you can actually do. But you can't", _the fuck do you know about me_ , "because the moment you taste failure then you blame the music, your coach and your rival instead of yourself. You don't put any passion in what you do. But look at Yuuri."  
  
The way the look in his eyes shifts to bright summer in one instant hurts more than any slap I could have ever received.  
  
"He was scared stiff of the piece I picked for him, yet he still turned out to be grateful and humble enough to embrace it and roll up his sleeves."  
  
I am not even listening anymore, the audience in my head asking for the animal to be relinquished is clapping too loud.  
  
"He knew nothing on the matters of seduction and sensuality. Now, while still being far from perfect, his performances can make my heart flutter anytime without any effort. Or anyone's, for the matter."  
"You just like him more."  
"You bet I do", _did he just admit it?_ "He might well be my best talent discovery so far." _Did he?_  
"I am better", _I know it's true, he can slap me all he wants,_ "but you want to get laid so much you don't even see it."  
"Fine, Yuri", _I won't change my mind_ , "show me, then."  
  
The tamer lights the ring of fire.  
  
"Show you-?"  
"Da, da.", _now_ he talks Russian to me, "Go on, _Yuratchka_ ", _now he does_ , "show me how much better than Yuuri you can be."  
  
The whole of my life depends on this one occasion and I do not even know where to start. What would Yuuri do? ...Did I just think that? _Did I?_  
"What is it?", _closer,_ "You can't get in touch with your Eros side, perhaps?"  
"I can", how do you do it, "of course I can", _how do you seduce someone?_  
"I'm waiting", _closer_ , "Yuratchka." _closer_.  
  
I recognise this scene, I've seen it before, I remember it clearly - Victor was standing there, holding stupid Yuuri like a lover would, eyes locked, one fingertip brushing his lips - which are now mine, my own lips and my own eyes, my existence at stake being played in a gamble on the palm of his hand.  
  
The first thing that comes to mind is: _imitate him_. If he does what he does then it must mean that in his eyes those gestures hold some significance to him, so here I brush his lower lip with my finger, there I lean over him, closing the gap between us as much as I can - _pathetically_ \- it doesn't work at all because he's so much taller than me. I don't look seductive or sweet, just stupid. He doesn't even flinch.  
  
The knot of nerves between my eyes tightens, involuntarily making me frown more than ever, I can't catch my breath and the second thing that comes to mind is: _kiss him._  
And this is how I give my one and only very first kiss away to Victor Nikiforov, eyelids half-shut, tip-toeing, but he is cold and still like a statue and doesn't react to me at all. My hands don't know what to do so I clench them in fists that dig red half-moons in my palms. Kissing him feels like being left alone in the dark.  
  
Third and last: _jump_. When everything else fails, then you must try a completely new approach - running the risk of either failing even harder, possibly one last time, or finally hitting the target. My dedication is not enough, neither is my anger, insulting him didn't work, emulating Yuuri was counterproductive, so I jump. _You can have it all for what I care, have it all, do whatever you please with it, anything it takes to win you over, you promised, you promised you'd be all mine when the time would come._  
  
So " _Vitya_ ", I whisper, " _I am yours_ ", I whimper, _at this stage I'd rather die jumping the ring of fire than be rejected again_.  
  
"Yuri", _I'm burning_ , "that's enough."  
" _Wait, let me--_ "  
"Yuri, Eros is about making someone fall in love with your charms", _somebody save me_ , "Not... _this_." _I'm burning_.  
I cannot read between the lines of disgust written all over his face, too dense, too thick to leave any space for me.  
"Please", _don't say that again_ , "Just go back to Russia."  
  
Victor has left, but I don't realise until the door slams back in its frame under the pressure of the automatic hinges.  
And I am left behind, my dignity is left behind, my whole fucking life is left behind and dumped in the fucking garbage like the fucking worthless failure it is.  
  
_I've never cried harder in my life._


	2. Chapter 2

That night, I run off because the very thought of having dinner with them makes me want to puke.  
  
I will leave tomorrow, it was a good idea after all to keep my return flight open on a flexible date - maybe something deep inside of me knew that this wasn't going to work. Not that I had planned to stay in Japan for long anyway, but I definitely was not expecting to come back as I had arrived: alone.  
I skip a proper meal and buy myself a new t-shirt instead (I want that shop back in St Petersburg), then I go for a banana-strawberry milkshake because once I'm back, I can say _dasvidaniya_ to my freedom and I'm back on the old spartan regimen. Skate practice, ballet practice, stamina practice, more practice, did I mention practice? Oh, and practice of course.  
_I want to stay here and eat katsudon and become fat, so--_  
Where did the day go?  
It's almost ten in the evening when I get back home - _'home'_ \- and by the time I make up my mind and decide I can't be bothered to look for a hotel to spend the night, it's gone past half ten. All I have to do is sneak in from the back, ninja all the way up to my room and disappear. _Poof._

But clearly some mean monkey faced god in the heavens of Japan must really hate me because, as soon as I set foot in the yard, here comes Victor in his loungewear to sit outdoors, holding a steamy cup of some tea of sorts.

I catch a glimpse of his expression as he turns around, and while my first reaction would be of coming up to him and smack his face repeatedly with the first blunt object at hand, I can't help but notice he looks... _different_ , somehow. And by that I mean: not his usual smug self. I'm not saying he only has one mood, but even though I don't understand much of this man I'd swear this is a new version of Victor I have never seen before.  
And yes, _that is good._  
Whatever the reason for him to look that distressed, he deserves it for mistreating me earlier. I can barely hold my hopes back, I smirk as I come closer and enter the patio, pretending I didn't even notice him.

"Yuri", I hate 'Yurio', but he made me so used to it that now my actual name sounds wrong in his voice, "what are you doing out this late?"

He doesn't really sound patronising, just merely circumstantial, but I find it irritating none the less because I don't want to hear his supposedly life-changing, eye-opening lessons ever again. _Oh why am I lying to myself._  
All I could de facto think about for three hours was how I fucked up my entire career as a figure skater because of my alleged arrogance, and how I wish Victor _fucking_ Nikoforov were swayed by me instead of another Yuri.  
Or maybe I am _the other Yuri_ in his eyes.

"None of your business", there was really no reason to be this salty, "I just went out because I wanted to."  
"I see", simply, indifferently, so it is true then that he is not really interested in what I say or do half the time, or maybe he's just giving me the cold shoulder now that I've been unpleasant towards him. I am about to burst again, the regenerating feeling of being on my own buying useless shit and junk food completely disappeared in the bat of an eye. He ruined me.  
And I wish he had at least kissed me back so I would feel a little less stupid in all this pain.

His laughter, all of a sudden, out of nowhere.  
"What--?"  
"You look like you could stab me in the eye with a fork any moment", there he is, chilled and laid back as normal, swinging his legs, making it light of what is happening to me because who cares about Yuri Plisetsky. "What were you thinking just now?"  
"You really know nothing about me. I was thinking about something completely different."  
"That's good", his signature warm smile again, "because I hope you don't hate me too much for all this."

Truth be told: I don't _exactly_  hate him, because I recognise I am at fault here to a certain extent or could have at least made things less unpleasant between us, but I won't admit it in a million years, not in his presence. But I _do_ hate how it now takes me a few seconds of thinking to react to whatever he does, because I am so fucking worried of disappointing him even more. Why would I even care anymore? _No, wait._

"Why would _you_ even care anymore?", _that's better, take this, you bastard_ , "actually, you _never_ cared about me, so why would you care about what I think of you _now_?"  
Yes, Victor, take your time to let it sink, you must not be used to being hated by others, but no, I can't even finish thinking that here he comes, here he comes again, "Because you remind me of myself at your age."

Without thinking, without being able to process at all, I sit down next to him. Then I remember he thinks I am ugly, so I lower my head and retire inside the hoodie more. I don't know how to deal with this, because I am not used to people not liking me, either. Maybe he doesn't like me because we are too similar after all.  
"I will dance to Agape. I will win the onsen competition and you will come back home with me. And then I will win the GPF and..."  
"I already said I won't coach you no matter who wins this contest."  
_I fell for his trap again, it seems._  
"...And then I will win the GPF and you will regret giving up on me.", I continue from the bottom of the pit because I can't climb back up and this is my only option.  
"You should give it up. You don't have what it takes.", _did he just repeat what I said to Yuuri when we first met at the restrooms?_  
My throat burns to the point that I can't even swallow my words so I just keep vomiting them impudently.  
"I do", _does he want me ruined for real or something?_ "I do, and I will show you, and you will take it back and you will say you're sorry", _whatever happens just don't cry for the love of god, just don't cry._  
"You're out of the contest, Yuri."  
"Then I will dance to Agape regardless and I will be so perfect you won't ever be able to forgive yourself."  
"I thought you hated the Agape?"  
"You have no idea", I'm not even talking anymore, _I'm snarling_ , "But I will do it because you must understand that I can learn anything and exceed your expectations and-- and--", _air, I need some air_ , "--and you will change your mind, and you will keep your promise and everything will be fixed--"  
"Yakov back home can teach you anytime."  
"But I want you!", _why does_   _my voice sound so annoying,_ "I want you so I can win and--"  
"See, the difference between you and Yuuri is that you don't put any love in this. You just want to win. The prize, the success will come your way. The money. The recognition, the fame."  
"Anything wrong with that?!", I'm at a loss again, I am shouting again, I lost every single inch of self control again.  
"No. Not at all",  the silver in his hair glistens at each shake of the head, "But _I_ want to teach somebody who looks up to _me_ , not my fame."  
_What am I supposed to answer to that?_  
"When I watch Yuuri skate, I can picture in my mind all the times he has failed and got up. All the pain and suffering he has gone through to stick to this discipline, to get where he is, I feel his love towards it and his gratitude towards _me_. I feel loved."  
_Yuuri, Yuuri, it's always Yuuri._  
"When I watch you perform... All I feel is your sense of greed."

A light flowery wind rises and wipes everything off my face. I wish it could also lift the weight off my shoulders.  
Whenever I would look at Victor, what comes to mind is my first memory of us meeting at the ice rink, Yakov telling me off for landing a complex Salchow, Victor's bright eyes, our promise, the way he was so completely captured by my performance he could mirror a bit of himself in me. He hasn't looked at me that way since then.

"You looked so happy back then. When you first saw me perform."  
"Because I was, Yuri. I remember it very well."  
"Why were you sad earlier?"  
"Earlier? When?"  
"When you sat down with your tea", _a few centimeters away, yet unreachable_ , "You looked sad."  
"Were you spying on me, Yurio?", _what are you giggling about you bastard._  
"What- No! I just happened to be there and I saw you, that's all."  
"I see, I see. You are more perceptive than I thought."  
"Told you you don't know shit about me-"

 _"Does it hurt?"_  
  
Suddenly, the warmth of his hand on my cheek and it takes me way too long to connect all the pieces to form the big picture, until I finally remember that he had slapped me a few hours earlier. The point is everything else hurt so much more I had honestly forgotten about this detail specifically.  
" _Net_ ", I shake my head, unsure why it comes natural to me to speak our mother tongue when we get physically closer, when I want to piss him off, when I am sad, when I whisper, when I don't think too much.  
" _Ja schastliv_ ", he is happy. He looks it.  
"Is this why you were sad?", I venture down Hope Lane because if he is sorry and has changed his mind about coaching me out of regret, then I can forget about this, I could even forgive him and stay. But Victor does not answer verbally, landing a quiet kiss on my cheekbone instead. And in a fraction of second I am at least ten different shades of _What the fuck_ , blending into a luminous _Fuck yeah_.  
My eyes feel so wide open I'm tearing up a little. _Take this, Katsudon!_  
I hate how handsome he is with all my might, even from so up close his skin is perfect and smooth like marble, I hope I will look a little like him in a few years, and I wish I was just a little bit older, _I wish I was twenty-three too._  
" _Yuratchka_ ", every single pore in my skin overheating as he talks directly to my ear, " _Do you really want to know?_ "  
"I wouldn't ask, otherwise", I am proud of how adult-like and collected I just sounded despite how inverted my stomach is feeling right now.  
"Then let's make a bet. Just the two of us", _I don't want to_ , "If you manage to pull off Agape tomorrow, I will tell you why I was sad." _I don't ever want to see him hold anyone else like this, but me._  
"I thought you--"  
"And if you win against Yuuri, I will fulfil my promise to you."  
"Will you really come with me, if I win?"  
" _Da_."

_I bid dasvidaniya to your poor little heart, Katsuki Yuuri._


	3. Chapter 3

I haven't slept one bit.

The morning after I get up so early it seems the whole of Hasetsu is still submerged in hibernation and I am the first one to realise it's finally springtime. When I walk past Victor's room I am tempted to take a peak inside just to make sure he notices how early I am getting up on this important day, but all I can hear is his dog snoring horribly so I decide not to. He will see for himself, how diligent I am in two hours when they will join me at the ice rink.  
  
*  
  
"You are doing really well today, Yurio!", _yeah call me Yurio all you want, soon there will be no other Yuri to tell myself apart from._  
"Spasibo", this is between us, but I want to act proper and impress him so I also bow a _"Thank you"_ to Piggy who was watching, and judging from the shade of shame on his cheeks I'm sure he's shitting himself in fear of losing already.  
"From Russian punk to Russian fairy indeed", Victor lets out a small laugh and I am filled with a sense of completion I cannot quite name. "Although, I must say... You are still lacking something. While you are technically almost there, I think you don't quite get what Agape is, yet. Remember what we were discussing about yesterday?"  
"Of course I do", _as if I could think about anything else at all_ , "I do remember what you say", that came out more caustic than I wanted but I couldn't help myself.  
"Aren't you too young to hold grudges, Yuratchka?", I hate how he highlights I'm only a teenager because I'm much smarter and more mature than that, I'm not your average fifteen years old, am I? _Am I?_  
"I was joking", my only option is to pretend I can shrug it off easily, so it's now his fault for not picking up on my humour, "chill out, _Vitya_ ", _and with this, remember of when I kissed you._  
"Vitya?", _yes Piggy, yes, Victor and I are close enough to call each other with sweet nicknames like that. Suck it up._  
I want him to understand how awkward and annoying it feels when two people flirt right in front of you making you feel left out, so I go up to Victor who's still taking his blades off before he can give a neutral explanation and blow up my opportunity. "It's a nickname. It's what you call somebody in Russian when you are close and fond of each other", I claim the space next to Victor on the bench. _My_ space.  _My_ coach. _My_ Victor. "He calls me Yuratchka all the time!"  
I see him shaking his head in the corner of my eye, maybe I insisted too much, and Yuuri doesn't really react much besides mimicking Victor's gesture.  
_Are they making a fool of me? Is this some inside joke I'm not aware of?_  
"So did I do good enough for you to keep our second promise?", _feel left out, look at our secrets from afar, learn your place you idiot._  
As I lean towards Victor, I can smell the clean fragrance of his shampoo even after training and sweating, and I want to know how he smells like in the morning, only barely awake.  
"I'm not convinced...", his smile travels faster than my disappointment, "...but I will make an exception for our little Yurio."  
_Do not say "our", do not say "little", do not--_  
"There is a second promise going on?", the bewilderment and confusion on Yuuri's face is like air after suffocating. I am so exhilarated I can't even answer back.  
"Just a little bet to stimulate Yurio's willpower", Victor diminishes everything but I don't care, I don't care because he was vague enough to make Yuuri wonder and worry and that's exactly what I want. And as I smile in fake content, _alluring_ even, the feeling I know all to well paints itself on Piggy's face. This is how it feels when somebody takes what you want away from you. _Savour it._  
"I see... Well it appears like it's working. You were impressive today", _was that a note of sadness I heard? Do you understand now, damn Katsudon?_ "I think I will go for another run around the promenade and then I want to get to bed early, if that's ok? Couldn't sleep much last night", _tell me, idiot._  
"I am always impressive", I mean it, but I laugh to conceal and try to sound funny instead. Nobody else laughs.  
"That sounds wise, Yuuri", finally Victor interrupts us, but I don't like the serious tone in his voice one bit. I don't ask him for further explanation until we're left alone in the locker room.  
"Are you going to tell me, now?", I wonder if he ever looks at me when I get undressed as I am now, readying myself for a quick shower. If I look ugly in his eyes because I am still underdeveloped, too lithe, too unripe. If he even likes the western, androgynous type. I wish I was older, bigger and manlier. I look at him all the time in admiration and curiosity, sometimes necessity, because I can't help myself and I hate it but I still do it regardless. I'm torn between _I want him_ and _I want to_ be _him_.  
"Yuri", _that's never a good sign,_ "we could go out, don't you think?"  
"...Go out?"  
"Yes. For a ramen or something", _is this really happening?_  
"I want to talk in a quiet environment, just the two of us", _is this really happening to me?_

*

_Is this really happening to me?_

We are walking our way back slowly, in the dim light of the quiet streets of Hasetsu, and I am still asking myself in loop, unable to process the fact that Victor Nikiforov asked me out. I wore something smarter, tied my hair back neatly, behaved all night, kept my annoying remarks at bay. If he wants to see the Agape in me then I will give him all the Agape I have, and if that's not enough then I will make it up. Anything, _anything_ to win him over.  
  
"So", I nearly chocked on my own breath out of surprise, "about our promise."  
  
Since Victor stops near the bellavista, I do the same.  
  
" _Da..._ ", the town lights in the distance, the occasional passer-by, everything seems to flicker like reflections in a puddle of rain.  
"I am sorry it took me a while", his elbows on the railing, in the orange spotlight from a lamppost, he looks at something indefinite in front of us and I stare at him intently, "I had to reorganise my thoughts and find the better way to say this. Why I was sad yesterday."  
" _Da_ ", I feel like a burnt light bulb and can only repeat mindlessly. I hope I don't sound too stupid.  
"I am afraid you might think bad of me, Yuri", he gives me a genuinely worried smile and I am sure I could never think bad of him even if he were about to confess some horrible crime. I don't know what to tell him in reassurance so I just place a hand on his forearm, y _ou can tell me anything. If you happen to have fallen in love with a fifteen year old I won't think bad of you, because the fifteen year old might as well love you back, you know, you never know with these things, the heart is a strange thing to comprehend._ I squeeze lightly, and he gives me another signature smile and he is so handsome and nice when we are not bickering and I want him to look at me alone _please tell me I'm not mistaken please please please I don't care about winning just stay with me please._  
"Something quite relevant is happening but I cannot deny it and I am afraid, really afraid, that you will think bad of me. I don't want you to think I am a bad person. Or that I want to hurt you in any way possible."  
"I would never think that", _I want to kiss him. More than anything else in the world I want to kiss him and tell him we'll be fine. We can wait. If you really love me it's only a couple of years then we'll be fine. Or we don't wait, I don't care. Can I just kiss you again? Can I do it better?_  
"Can you promise me that, Yuri?", his arm around my shoulders and we are so close I think I could die. I am going to die. _I can promise you anything just come back home with me,_ "That you won't think bad of me?"  
" _Ja obeshchaju_ ", I whisper back, of course I promise, and he kisses me on that same cheek again, it's a sweet kiss, it reminds me of my mother before she died or granddad, a kiss of gratitude.  
"The thing is... you were right."  
_Was I right? Am I right? What? When?_  
"Your words the other day, they made me think", I have to alert all my senses because I can barely hear him and as I stare at his lips speaking I perceive the gesture before the sound, "and I understood it's true. I don't want to lie to you and deny the evidence, or worse, make you think I am actually favouring one of you over the other. This has nothing to do with figure skating and I can promise you that it will not affect the final result. I am a professional and the two matters must not meddle in any shape or form."  
I have no idea what he is saying.  
"It is true", I feel something escaping through my mouth, like a piece of life, as I exhale after so long, "that I might be developing some personal feelings for Yuuri."  
" _I see_ ", I answer, but I cannot really see anything.  
"This doesn't mean that I favour him of course. I will judge the final results of the competition impartially, as it should be. And I will keep my promise to whoever will win. I can assure you that, and I hope you can believe me."  
" _I understand_ ", but I don't really understand anything.  
"Please don't say any of this to anyone, Yuri", he tightens the grip around my shoulders and I think that's why I'm crumbling, "Yuuri doesn't know. I am not sure I will ever tell him either. I am here to coach you two but this is happening and I can't be dishonest and lie to you after you noticed. Can we keep this between us?"  
" _Yes_ ", but I don't remember how to say it in Russian.  
"You really are a good kid after all", he is joking, he doesn't see and doesn't understand, and I am stupid, and I am ugly and a fool. And I want Victor to wait for me and kiss me back and hold me and come home to Russia and we can go out for dinner again. I need to win so he can forget about Yuuri and remember about Yuri.  
  
And then he motherly kisses me again and my cheek burns and my eyes want to rain and I am sorry Yakov I should have listened after all.  
_And this is when I decide I will definitely win at any cost and that winning is all that counts in my life until I close my eyes and die._


	4. Chapter 4

My feet bleed from too much landing in the wrong ways but I do not stop. It is stupid o' clock in the morning, I didn't even check, but luckily enough I was given the spare keys to the rink. I even went to the temple to pray for a while - Victor says it will help me understand the Agape - not sure what for as I was still half asleep. I think I asked for good luck and horrible things to happen to Yuuri, either way, surely all this extra training will do me well. It hurts, it hurts and I want to sleep and have breakfast but I must continue. I cannot lose.  
  
And most importantly, I cannot give myself time to think.  
  
When I hear the main doors unlock, I know it's not Victor - I have come to a point where I can recognise his step, so, rushing back to the middle of the icy floor, I start over again - this music is so slow and tiring but my whole life depends on it and on how much I come to love it, so I love it I swear, it is my favourite music ever and I'd dance to it until I drop dead. I swear. _I swear..._  
  
"Good morning, Yurio!", he looks terrible, glasses on, hair unkempt, sweaty from jogging his way here, "I am jealous, you manage to be so early everyday. I guess it's the young age", _what do you see in him, Victor?_  
"You are just a lazy pig, Piggy", I need to take advantage of us being alone so I can bully him without Victor knowing, "did you put more weight on by any chance?"  
"Oh? No! Do I look fatter?! This is bad...", if anything, I think he's putting on muscle, which is bad indeed, because it means more stamina and a more evident gap between us. I am faster, more precise, I can jump higher, my balance is better, but I can only last half of his record times at any discipline. Why can't I be older already? Why am I still so thin?  
"You definitely look fatter", no he doesn't. And now that I watch him move from up close, glasses aside, his shape is actually really decent. "And also--"  
"Are your feet ok, Yurio?", _don't you dare sounding actually concerned about me, don't you fucking dare playing pals with me,_ "You're limping--"  
"I'm fine", _stop being nice to me, I hate you, I fucking hate you, go die, die and disappear,_ "leave me alone."  
"But you seem hurt", _leave me alone, leave me I said, I said--_  
"I said leave me alone."  
"Let me have a look, come on--"  
"I said I am fine!", I shove him off so hard when he tries to support me, he lands awkwardly on his back with an extremely loud thud. _There you go. Fuck off and break._  
  
"Ouch...",  
"Good morning-- Yuuri? What happened?"  
_The whole fucking universe is conspiring against me._  
"Piggy fell over", I snap, I laugh, I point at him still on the ground and it feels like kindergarten, "because he's stupid."  
"Yeah. I tripped", _wait, what?_ "Too early in the morning to skate or even walk, it seems!"  
_Did he just cover for me?_  
_Did he?_  
"Yuuri, you need to be careful", _oh no, no,_ "if you mess up before the contest I'll cry bitter tears", their hands locking, their smiles reciprocating, _I'm hurting too, help me too, don't steal my spotlight you asshole,_ "are you ok? Wait, you are limping-!"  
"I am fine, I had soft landing", self-mockery, his laughter sounds cute and innocent, genuine. And Victor, the way he looks at him. I am mesmerised. "I just twisted my ankle a little."  
"Yurio?", I physically jump, shook, "would you mind getting some first aid for Yuuri?"  
I skate my way back to the perimeter, fighting the urge to punch myself, and the pain in my feet, and everywhere else. I ruined everything, a whole morning worth of efforts, for what?  
"Here", I was taught first aid but my hands are shaking, and I feel like Victor knows, he knows it was my fault, I can read it in the looks he doesn't give me.  
"I am glad Yurio was here", _did you just_ , "he was super early this morning", _did you just?_ "Please take a look at his feet too, Victor, he's been working hard for so long already."  
I am still staring at Yuuri in disbelief when Victor finally turns at me, and I must look so pale because he immediately places one hand on my forehead, "Yurio, are you feeling alright? You look like a ghost", _because I am, because I am._  
And I am gone before any of them can reply.  
  
*  
  
"You will be fine", the worrying, "A little rest and you'll be back in shape, like new",  the same voice as my granddad when I would graze my knees, caring, sweet, unconditional loving, _Agape_.  
Through the sliding doors slightly left ajar, from the corridor, I can see everything. I can see too much.  
"I'm sure it's going to be ok, it's nothing", I can see him containing the pain as Victor massages his ankle, "did you check on Yurio at all?"  
"He ran off and didn't really give me the chance", my heart sinks, because I tended to my own injuries alone.  
"Please do", _why do you insist?_ , "he seemed so upset. I think he's overworking himself", _why do you care? I am the enemy!_ "He's only a kid. If he keeps this up..."  
"Yeah. I think he doesn't have his limits figured out yet."  
  
_So this is why you don't eavesdrop_.  
  
*  
  
"Yuri?"  
  
I haven't even got changed.  
"Are you sleeping?", I pretend to. Back turned towards the door he can't see me, after all. My heart races like being chased by wolves.  
First he sits on the mattress, second his balance shifts towards the bottom of the bed, third I know I disappointed him from his sigh.  
His hand in my hair, stroking gently, like a parent would.  
"Yuri", _apnoea_ , "please don't ruin your body and stick to the routine I assigned you."  
I could blackmail him. I could quite easily blackmail Vitor with our secret and make him love me, I could ruin him any time, pay him back for breaking my heart, for forgetting, for abandoning me, for taking it all away and giving it to somebody else.  
But he's still stroking my hair and all I want right now is to lay down in this very bed and stroke his till morning.  
"And you should have proper dinner. Stop skipping meals just to avoid us."  
_Does he know?_  
_Does he know?_  
"I am sorry I made it awkward for you", _he doesn't know,_ "with what I told you yesterday," _he doesn't know._  
He most probably will never know.  
His weight off the mattress and my whole body screams _stop him_.  
"If you ever need to talk", _my mind in chains_ , "you know where to find me, Yuri."  
  
"Victor-"  
_I think this stupidity is the difference between being twenty-three and being fifteen._  
  
My hand lets go of his sleeve in slow motion, or maybe it's just how my eyes perceive it, but then I grab it again, even more abruptly.  
"I pushed him", _Plisetsky_ , "it was my fault", _what are you doing, Plisetsky?_  
  
He sits on the bed. I'm still pulling the light fabric of his yukata.  
"I knew the moment I saw you two this morning", _exhale_ , "it's fine. Yuuri is not angry or anything, he'll be ok tomorrow", _inhale_ , "You just need to work on it a little."  
"What?", _I can't let go._  
"Your temper", his wrist dances the tango with mine to free itself, but then my hand is flattened under his, "You'll learn in due time. You're still very young."  
Is this like holding hands? It feels more like being told off but then I've never held hands with anyone so how am I supposed to know?  
Maybe I am completely out of sync with standards of normality and that's why I feel like this. I should be having fun with friends and playing videogames and going out to the mall to buy all sorts of crap and eating shit Mc Donald's and I should find myself some nice girl to touch up but I am here instead, stuck in an infinite loop of dissatisfaction towards myself, my career and my so called feelings. Is this a crush I have? Is it obsession? Love? Hate? I can't tell anymore.  
" _Can I kiss you again_ ", the thoughts escape my unguarded mouth and I am left there contemplating what the effing fuck is wrong with me.  
"Kiss me?", he sounds amused but his voice does not match his face, which looks worried instead, "why would you want to kiss me? I'm twenty-seven, Yuri."  
I honestly don't understand, and being a kid I am allowed to act like one so I just go up to him and brush my lips against his. Mine feel chapped and dry and it hurts.  
" _Yuri-_ "  
I don't care if it hurts, everything does anyway. I want a proper kiss. It has to be Victor. _Who else?_  
So I push my way in. I don't know how to kiss but I've seen it in movies. I want to know how he tastes like, I want him to know me, I want to know before Yuuri does, or does he know already? Is he holding me or trying to stop me?  
" _Yuri, net, proshu_ ", my eyes shut tight and I am everywhere inside his mouth, sometimes our teeth collide, I cannot kiss and he's not helping, he's not teaching me, I'm in the dark again.  
" _Yuri_ ", he shakes me a little less gently this time and I know my time is up, I'll be gone in a few seconds so my hands blindly find their way through the wrong, in between the folds and his chest that feels like home, cold and lonely and far as I am pushed against the opposite side of the bed.  
"Stop. _Stop_ ", with one hand I am still grabbing onto his clothes, loosened and framing him like a painting, "Yuri, I don't want to hurt you but you need to stop. This is all wrong."  
"I know", I say, and this time I do know for real, "Call me Yuratchka", _I am hard_.  
"Fine, Yuratchka", I smile a sad smile as I stare back at him because he's giving me the consolation prize, "What's wrong? Let's talk about this please."  
"There's nothing to talk about", I am surprised at how calm I sound, probably because it hasn't sunk in yet, "I don't care if you love somebody else, I want you to love me."  
"Yuratchka, you're being childish."  
"Victor, I _am_ a child."  
"I never spoke about love in the first place", he's still holding me pinned against the mattress and it feels a little like love if I distract myself enough, "I said I might be growing fond of Yuuri. I like him and that's all. No need to get so hung up on it, I don't even know myself for sure yet."  
" _Are you trying to justify yourself?_ ", I laugh and cry at the distance between us, at these few years that make us wrong.  
"Yuri...", he lets go, then his eyes finally analyse the scene from a distance, and he averts them in a matter of two seconds. For two seconds he has watched me wanting him with each single fibre of my being. Still laying down, unable to move or react or even just make my body shut up, my fifteen years breathe in and out of slowly, like snow taking ages to settle.  
"I like your taste", my hand outstretched, "it's a little like gingerbread", I try to caress him, but he stays a statue.  
I can't tell if he's sad or just disappointed or even annoyed.  
"You were my first kiss", feel the hurt I feel.  
"I am sorry it wasn't reciprocated, please don't cry", I think I can hear some sort of pain in the chords he's playing. I hope he is in pain.  
I really just want to touch myself but I also want him to stay so, somehow, I just let myself be. I am fifteen so I am also allowed to give in to sudden hormone surges. No, I am lying, of course I want him to touch me but that's out of the question, it seems.  
  
" _I am sorry I am ugly_ ", I say.  
  
Victor's arms around me, tight, tighter, like I'm doing a quadruple Salchow and the world just won't stop spinning but he catches me before I lose balance. I can breathe him everywhere and his chest is bare against my cheek and I'm home again.  
" _You are perfect_ ", he lays down quietly and slow, like a lullaby. "I never meant it like that. Never. _Never_ ", a shake of the head at each never, " _You are the single most beautiful human being I've ever laid my eyes on. Ever. Please believe me_."  
  
"Can you stay?"  
  
"Stay?"  
  
"Here", I slide.  
"Just for tonight, I won't do anything", _I'm tired of begging for attention_.  
"I just want to sleep near, hugging if you like, or just side by side", _once_.  
"I'll behave", his chest, " _Ja obeshchaju_ ", I never want to leave his chest.  
  
" _Da_."  
  
" _I don't want to lose and go back home alone_ ", I whisper against him.  
Motherly kisses all over my hair, my face, my eyes. His taste has faded away already.  
  
_And this is when I know for certain that I_ will _lose and go back home alone._


	5. Chapter 5

_Have you ever thought about love?_  
  
If he were to ask me now, I'd know exactly what to say. I'd describe the slightest up and down motion of his chest - still bare, a wasteland - the muted colour of his hair that reminds me of the moon, is it stupid to think that he's really handsome? Like, do I sound _pathetic_? Is it ok if I really like the quietest whistle from his nose as he breathes in? Is it stupid maybe to think I don't want anyone else to ever hear it?  
Am I childish if I am still unable to process the fact that he thinks I am beautiful and I want him to tell me again? Like, over and over? Everyday? In front of everyone?  
If he were to ask me now, I'd speak of the way I've been awake all night to watch this, I don't even know how, or why these small poetries come to me considering I'm always told off for my words, my swearing, the bad attitude. Am I growing up? Am I learning? Is this what growing pains mean?  
Is this Eros, or is it Agape? Is it both? Or none?  
  
How long are promises supposed to last?  
  
If Victor was allowed to completely forget about me and our promise from back then, is it also acceptable for me to _accidentally_ forget that I was supposed to behave?  
  
Is it true that if you listen to something in your sleep then your brain remembers it better?  
  
" _Victor_ ", his ear feels warm as I whisper barely audible, " _I love you_ ", he's held me in this exact position all night long.  
" _Let's go home_ ", I kiss his temple, " _I'll make you proud_ ", the cheekbone.  
" _I will win all the prizes for you_ ", his earlobe, " _you will stand behind me on the podium and I will say, 'this is for Victor, it is for Victor that I work hard', and we will be invincible._ "  
" _Please let me win_ ", his neck, " _I want to be with you_ ", his shoulder.  
  
If I am gone in two days, and I _will_ be gone, can I be forgiven for such a small lie? Or is it a big mistake? Do I even care?  
  
I climb on top of him and he stirs slowly, for once I am glad I am light as a feather, and my presence too small to be of any relevance.  
The most unnoticeable twitch of tension in his body instinctively adjusting to mine sends wrong messages all the way through my spine, or maybe he will love me back, only he doesn't know yet. He might understand where his heart truly rests, if I make him. He's only human, just like me.  
I've seen him naked countless times in the past days, this man knows no shame or decency, but neither do I. Can I be forgiven? I'm only a kid of fifteen, I am the embodiment of curiosity. I want to see again. I want to touch and discover and regret. _Right here on top of Victor, I feel immortal._  
  
My hand outstretched across his chest at something like six in the morning, moving ever so slowly to buy myself time, he feels boiling hot from the bedsheets. And somehow, my own temperature is even higher as if I were the fire itself. Yes I want to burn the memory of me in him, like a stigma.  
  
My fingertips travel from Victor to myself and viceversa, stealing a little of each other with every flick and brush. I don't know how to kiss but I _do_ know how to touch - like any boy my age I _do_ spend way too long practicing that, forget figure skating. I think if I actually managed to make him hard, I could die - just imagining his expressions, the pleasure, the moans, I want to know how he sounds, I want to taste the sweat, see the nerves tense, feel the blood rush away from the head, I need him, I want him to want me, _god I'm hard again._  
  
Eros.  
Pleasure followed by pleasure. _One just drowns in it_.  
  
Victor stirs and in the corner of my eye I can see his hand looking for me in blind circles, around the place besides him where I had been moments earlier and all night. This alone makes me feel horrible and guilty but it's too late to go back and too early to stop. So recklessly, brain disconnected, a rush to the head, his hand gently entwined with mine, I place it right in between my legs as I reach for his awaking body in return.  
  
_His beauty consumes me._  
  
And so do his drowsy eyes, the moment he comes back from dreamland and for one, precious and once in a lifetime priceless second, he is confused and _mine, all mine, mine only._  
  
" _Yuri_ ", I've never seen him scared before and it makes my blood freeze, then the push, the escape, the chase, another push, the look of shock, the aftershock, then I kiss him again, then I am on the floor somehow.  
  
" _You really don't understand, do you?_ ", the shake, the drop, " _I'm leaving._ "  
" _You were liking it_ ", the truth.  
" _Was I now? I was sleeping, Yuri, sleeping_ ", the lie.  
" _Then your body was liking it_ ", his shame.  
" _I trusted you_ ", my shame, " _You said you would behave, you promised!_ "  
" _And you promised you'd be my coach_ ", I've had enough, " _We were a team but you forgot and came to Japan to be with someone else_ ", he's had enough.  
" _Fine, I've had enough of this game. You want to know the truth, Yuri?_ "  
" _No, I want to go home with you_ ", eyes shut tight.  
" _No you listen to me. I like him. Do you hear me?_ "  
" _Take me home_ ", one hundred hands could not shield my ears from this.  
" _I've liked him from the first damn second I laid my eyes on him, no, from the video on YouTube, I was watching him dance and it seemed like everything suddenly connected, I felt inspired, dropped everything and came here because I knew I'd regret it forever otherwise. I found my muse. And I came here because I need to understand what this feeling is, I've never felt it before, Yuuri has awakened something in me I didn't even know existed. I can't stop thinking about him day and night. And I don't want to, either, because for the first time in years I feel motivated. I need him, I want him to want me. This is it, Yuri. This is it._ "  
  
I get up and I realise I must have hit something when I fell off the bed, because everything aches. Or I don't know, really, how do I know anything. I am spinning and spinning, I can't keep my balance so I fall over again.  
Against all odds I haven't stopped loving him even after all this, so I assume quite certainly that I am just lost, gone for good, too deep in the quicksand to be saved.  
  
" _Yuri_ ", he catches me by the arm one moment too late, when I am already on the floor, " _Please stop._ "  
  
Please? Please stop what? Please stop falling over? Please stop falling for me? Please just stop falling? What?  
  
" _You are only fifteen years old, how do you even know it's love?_ "  
" _Love? I don't love you_ ", if I don't save myself, " _I just wanted to have sex with you because I was curious and that's all, I don't even like you all that much_ ", who will?  
" _Fine, better even, it means you'll get over it quickly_ ", he sounds offended, or in pain, or both.  
" _I hate you_ ", abort, " _I hate you, Victor_ ", abort.  
" _I understand_ ", please just leave, " _I hope one day you will understand too._ "  
  
He does leave.  
  
*  
  
Victor hasn't been around all day.  
  
He thought it was a good idea to send us to another temple nearby, then a waterfall even, so I could try and understand what Agape is, but I know already. Only, I am not allowed to think about him anymore so I try focussing on something else safer - granddad, yes granddad would love me unconditionally, no matter how many times I'd make him lose his temper, no matter my defeats, no matter the circumstances, he'd be there for me. Until he went, that is. I guess this is good enough for Agape.  
  
Thing is, this is my second last day seeing him if I lose and time spent like this feels like a huge waste.  
  
"But where is Victor anyway?"  
"I think he might have gone to Nagahama Ramen."  
"What? We go too then!"  
"He said he wanted to be on his own."  
  
How should I put it? I have a number 2 hanging on top of my head, like an expiration date, like a _rank_.  
  
*  
  
Not that I was sleeping anyway, but the amount of noise Victor causes in the vain attempt not to make any is enough to wake up the entire inn. Our rooms are too close. Or too far, a matter of perspective. If the circumstances were different, I'd laugh at how the most skilled and graceful figure skater of our time turns into an elephant the moment he drinks a little irresponsibly. Where 'a little' translates to: I'd be surprised he even remembers his own name.  
Is there anything else to lose? No, so I tiptoe my way across the short corridor at two in the morning.  
  
To be perfectly honest, he's in a quite pitiful state, not the kind of image you'd like, or want, or expect your lifetime idol to portray. Is there anything else to lose? No, so I decide to spend the night stealing the last leftover bits of Victor Nikiforov. It takes me ten minutes to take his clothes off, and another ten minutes to force him in the inn robes because he struggles a lot.  
" _I'm not drunk_ ", is the first thing he says, then " _He just wanted me to keep my promise_ ", where 'he' is obviously _Yours truly_ and consequentially it's painfully clear he doesn't even see me there. Is there anything else to lose? Not so sure anymore.  
  
_"I have ruined him."_  
_"He said he wanted us to go home and what did I do? I spat my own selfish feelings in his face."_  
_"He's just a kid. He's just a kid on his own."_  
_"He needed me and I abandoned him."_  
_"If I had stayed in Russia all this wouldn't have happened."_  
  
How should I put it?  
  
"You left because you fell in love", I lay him in bed, "that is a good enough reason, don't you think", _don't you think?_  
  
_"But Yuri..."_  
"Yuri will understand. He did the same thing for you after all."  
_"I can't do both"_ , I understand, _"I can't be here and there, I can't help both"_ , I understand.  
"Yuri has Yakov. Don't worry about him."  
_"But he wants me"_ , look at me, _"because I promised"_ , no, don't look at me.  
"He will be fine. He just needs a little time to process all this."  
_"What if he doesn't and I never see him again"_ , he's never held me this tight, _"what if he forgets about me, what if he hates me"_ , never, since I've known him.  
"He doesn't hate you one bit, I can assure you", I think his body knows I'm there but his mind refuses to.  
_"But he will"_ , his hand in my hair, _"and then he will forget me"_ , mine in his.  
"He won't", but _you_ will.  
  
_"I want to stay in Japan"_ , I know.  
_"I want to make Yuuri win the GPF"_ , I know.  
  
_Inhale._  
"Then you should."  
_Exhale._  
  
_"But what will be of Yuri?"_ and I don't have anything else left to say, so I lay down in his bed that has fresh bedsheets, slowly, _"He's going to be all alone"_ , so I can remember and despair later, in ten years or ten minutes, _"Because of me"_ , but for now I am holding him in my arms and I hope my chest feels a bit like home to him.  
  
Victor sleeps on me and I watch the hours go by. I am not crying.  
  
_Agape. God's infinite love is self-sacrificing and uncalculating._


	6. Chapter 6

After what feels like ten minutes, but is actually about four hours solid, something like a tepid draft on the back of my neck wakes me up. When and how I managed to fall asleep, is a mystery to me.  
Floating in the daze of too many sleepless nights in a row before this, it takes me a stupid amount of time to realise the warmth I feel is Victor's breath right behind me, that he's holding me, that he's probably awake, that the right side of my body feels numb from sleeping on it all night long and that I must stay perfectly still even if some natural disaster were to strike Japan right this moment. Pretend. Pretend like your life depends on it, because _it does_.  
I hurt so much all over and the memories of our last exchange are coming back to me like a hailstorm, pieces connect and I break to splinters again.  
His left hand at my waist, I am gently turned until I lay on my back, eyes shut to the ceiling. It is hard not to give in, but tomorrow I am gone and ruining this is not an option, hence my resistance.  
Caresses as light as snow in my hair, his lips on my forehead and a whisper: _"Yuri"_.

Then a kiss, and another, and another _and another_ all in the same spot normally concealed under my bangs. I can hear him again, under his breath: " _Yuratchka"_. My heart twists and turns and bashes my ribs head first like a bird in a cage, _"Forgive me."_  
Maybe he remembers, or maybe this is a goodbye and he knows I'm awake. Maybe this is my last chance to ever share something with him so I take the risk and I open my eyes, slowly, so slowly it feels like coming to life. I cannot define Victor's expression, and he probably doesn't understand mine either. But then I remember he loves Katsuki Yuuri and wants him to win the GPF and I shift to apathy - not pain, not even rage, just uninteresting, artificially induced calm. Like mirroring me, he also wears a new appearance: that of a man who's already far away, somewhere else new, a new harbour, embraced by new arms. And I miss all this already even though I'm still near him, even though this isn't really good at all. But it's still _something_.

_"I remember"_ , I will miss how his lips curve imperceptibly when he whispers, _"All that I have said last night. I shouldn't have put all that burden on you. It's regrettable."  
_  
I don't know what to answer. Is it good? Is it bad? _Thank you?_ _Don't worry? Please don't?_  
  
"I am sorry, Yuri. It was horrible of me."  
"Can we speak sometimes?", _I feel disconnected,_ "Like, on the phone, after I'm gone?", _I don't know why I am saying this._  
"Don't... Don't just assume you will lose. That's very out of character of you."  
"Is it a 'no'?"  
"I-- no. I mean, yes, of course we can speak on the phone. Whenever you like and we are not too busy, we can. And" _is he really putting some thought into this?_ "if you do happen to go back to Russia, we can also Skype. And send each other silly snapchats like we used to", _why does he look so alarmed?_ "But you must promise me that you will work hard to win the GPF. With or without me", _I like that he's worried,_  "and you must never quit, and-"  _but I can't quite place why._  
"Can we take a photo together?"  
"--A photo? You mean now?"  
"Just say yes."  
  
In the picture, he holds me around the shoulders and kisses me on the cheek, the usual cheek, the lucky cheek. I wonder how many pictures of him and Yuuri I will see in the near future, how much it will pain me, how angry I will become with myself and them and everything.  
"Send it to me later. I will have it printed so I can keep it on me."  
Now he's acting like I've left already but it almost feels better this way, we both know after all, no need to lie.  
And if that's the case why the fuck am I hurting anyway? Ah, yes, _I'm fifteen_. Of course I hurt for these things.  
  
Victor must have caught on my change of mood, or maybe my silence gave it away. He looks hurt again, but a second hand, regretful kind of hurt - like when you see a stray cat in the streets and you know you can't keep him, so you feel genuinely sorry from the bottom of your heart, but ten minutes later you've forgotten already.  
"If you win", _if I win?_ , "I will take you out to dinner tomorrow night, before we leave", _is he for real?_ "To Mc Donald's or something because you like that stuff, don't you? You post pictures of junk food all the time", _you watch what I do? Since when?_ "Then maybe we can take a short break before getting back into the routine. Actually we could stay a little longer. We could go to Tokyo and visit Harajuku, I think that's what it's called. They sell the kind of clothes you'd wear", _how do you even know what I like to wear?_ "I suppose this time of the year is close enough to the festivals too", _I can picture it,_ "we could go watch the fireworks and eat at food stalls", _I can picture him in a yukata, it's slate grey, with a geometric pattern in triangles and lines that don't connect._ "Then we go back home and Yakov kills us both because we're fat like hippos", he laughs. I laugh too. "The end."  
"No", I'm still laughing, "then you officially debut as my coach and I win everything for you and-"  
"And I'm behind you on the podium and you say: this is for Victor", _I'm breathless,_ "it is for Victor that I work so hard", _my heart is choking me._  
Then he does remember. He does. He _really_ does. And _I know he know_ s and this is probably why he's comforting me, no I'm sure, _he knows I know_ and we know everything all of a sudden. Well, _almost_ everything. I never knew I could share this kind of connection with anyone, let alone Victor. The idea that he's aware of my raw feelings towards him makes me feel naked amidst the tundra.  
  
"Will you, then? Will you work hard for me?"  
"I will", _why do I always fall for this trap?_  
"Whatever happens", _oh no don't make me_ , "Promise."  
"I promise", _how?_  
"And you won't give up", _how do you do this?_  
"Never", _will I ever learn?_ "I will win both the onsen on ice and the grand prix."  
"That's my Yuri." _yours?_ "Speaking of which, want to know a secret? I haven't told anyone yet so please act surprised when I make the announcement later."  
_What sort of question is that? I'd keep any secret he decides to hide in me, any time and at any cost, as long as I am the only one knowing._ "What is it?"  
"I got all my competition costumes sent here for you guys to pick from. You are free to decline my suggestion of course, but I'd like you to wear one, specifically."  
"Which one?"  
"One from my junior days. It has feathers and it sparkles a lot, like... A lot. Maybe a little too much, even. But regardless, I think it suits the theme of your program and you would look amazing in it."  
"I am positive I will look _shit_ in it, I wish you'd quit this fixation on seeing me as some celestial being. It's embarrassing."  
"One can only hope. And you break my heart."  
"Look who's talking. Asshole."  
"Language."  
"Sir Anus, then." We laugh, even though it's lame.

"Victor?"  
"Yes?"  
_"Can I do it one last time?"  
_  
The longest thirty seconds of my life.  
  
"One last. No exceptions. Promise."  
_Enough with the promises,_ "Promise."  
Then a miracle, "Close your eyes."  
  
_I do so immediately._  
The world is 4.5 billion years old and I just happen to exist at the same time as Victor Nikiforov finally wanting to kiss me first. _Because he definitely is, isn't he?_  
At the end of this, if I fail the contest, there will be nothing left. I fly back to Russia, Yakov scolds me, and then there's Victor miles away with _the more important Yuuri_. He might wake up in the morning and see him here, right here where _I_ am, and they will re-enact this exact scene. They will laugh at silly things like idiots and will make love to each other. Of course Yuuri will love him back, _who wouldn't?_ And I will never come to mind, because all is said and done. Maybe they will do it twice. _Yuri who? You're the only Yuri I need._ I will fade. I am fading already as we speak.

"Wait", we both open our eyes at the same time, meeting the same look of confusion and slight tension in the other's, in almost the exact same shade of blue-green. He really was about to kiss me, lips parted, close enough to breathe the same air in turns. And I _stopped_ him. I really did. I really _fucking_ did. "Can I claim it later? In the future", I am an idiot, "I want to save this for later", a giant _fucking_ idiot.  
"Why?", _because I don't want to be kissed on request._  
"As an excuse to come back to Japan when you will have forgotten about me again, and remind you", so you remember me, "Just like I did this time round", _so you remember me._  
I wish Victor would look at me like this all the time, with softened eyes and this very same quiet smile, the one he normally saves up for Yuuri.  
"You're assuming you will lose again."  
"I'm just trying to think ahead."  
"Yuri", _not again,_ "please promise me you won't lose on purpose because of what I've said."  
"Do you think I am that stupid?"  
"Just promise me."  
"Do you think I want to lose to that idiot? _Do you?_ "

_Victor._  
He feels like sinking, like melting, it's the yielding of the ice as the blades scratch it, the moment you land on the surface after a jump and it's always a bet, doesn't matter how long you've been practicing, it's a bet when your heart stops and you don't know whether you'll be standing or head over heels and, in actuality, for a split second, you're flying in mid air, suspended. Yes I'm suspended right there in the middle, interrupted, pushed off the cliff without parachute, can't even let go of the bed sheets and hug him back _because Victor, Victor, Victor happened to me and for some strange twist of fate I am also happening to him, it's me, me, me he's holding, me,_ and I forgot how to breathe but at the same time I don't really need to anymore. Then I start crying, I am crying so much from all I can't contain, from his forehead pressed on mine, his eyes fixated in mine, his fingers crossed with mine. Mine? _Mine_.  
  
_"Yuratchka, don't do it. Don't do something like this for me. Don't throw yourself away for me. Please."_  
  
Victor above me, Victor at my side, Victor everywhere. Is he grateful for not having to kiss me now? I don't know. I don't want to know.  
This souvenir is mine to keep for when I am gone and all I can do is hope he doesn't regret me too much.  
After all, he should really blame himself for teaching me how to lie and how to break my word.

_"I promise."_

*  
  
"Victor still isn't here, huh?"  
"They said he was drinking until dawn. Dumbass."  
"Oh, Yurio..."  
"Huh? What?"  
"Please teach me how to land a quad Salchow."

The disbelief must have been intensely engraved on my face because he offers due explanation for this nonsense before I can even begin to ask.  
"I know it's unfair. I shouldn't be asking you of all people", _then what the fuck do you want from me,_ "But your technique is perfect and I need to nail my jumps right now if I want to stand a chance against you tomorrow", _what the fuck,_  "Please", _this is completely fucked up,_  "you're my only hope to win this", _completely._  
"Do you realise you're asking the _one_ person who wants you to lose more than anyone else?"  
"I do. But you are also the one person who understands the pain of losing Victor the most."  
_Oh._  
"So please, help me",  _Do you think I am that stupid?_  ,"I'd rather quit figure skating forever than fail this and lose him for good", _Do you think I want to lose to that idiot?_ , "Don't you want to compete on a more even ground?", _do you?_

Self-sacrificing.  
"Yurio, please", _Don't do something like this for me._  "Please, I don't want him to go after he came all the way here just for me", _don't throw yourself away for me._  
Uncalculating.

And this is how I end up spending my last hours in Japan teaching the enemy how to defeat me.  
_For Victor_ , of course.  
He's always the reason.


	7. Chapter 7

As expected, I look absolute shit in the outfit that Victor picked for me. And just as obviously, I am going to wear it anyway because it is true that it fits the theme and more importantly he would never forgive me if I were to choose something else - how twisted, how distasteful can this logic be. _I should be the unforgiving party in this war_.  
  
Plus because of the indecent amount of sparkles and see-through fabric it feels extremely girly, to the point that I am honestly embarrassed with myself in front of the mirror. Really, what's with the veils? It's not like I got anything to show.  
What's even worse, Yuuri got to wear one of my most favourite outfits of all times, and I hate to admit he looks sexy as the holy fuck in heavens and this is from my point of view - I don't even want to imagine what will Victor think when he sees him like this. I'd rather drown in the toilet than witness this disgraceful day thank you very much.  
  
I try to focus on the idea that a younger, long-haired version of Victor was once wearing this very same skin on _his_ skin. It's so thin and tight I fear I might just rip the damn thing apart if I land the wrong way. Can you imagine? _The icing on this multi layered cake of shit._  
But then he must have thought of something; maybe it's just the innocence theme and all, but I can trick myself into thinking that he really wanted to see me in this. That he actually put some proper thinking in it and _god no really I didn't sign up for this I look like a fucking Barbie doll kill me here and now please._  
  
"Yurio?"  
  
"The fuck do you want now?"  
  
"Oi-- are you alright, Yurio? Sorry, I just-- just wanted to say you look great in that. It really suits you."  
  
I swear I just eye-rolled so hard I saw the inside of my head. "Shut up, Piggy. I know it looks shit." _What do you know of me anyway, how do you know this represents me, this is not me, nothing of all this farce is me. It's you two alone, no space left._  
  
"Why? It's very delicate", _I hate his smile, his voice, the sweet look in his eyes,_ "and I think it compliments your appearance. One would never guess you can swear like a cranky drunk old man just by looking at you now." Was that supposed to be funny? _Fuck you._  
  
"I wish I could wear yours", I regret saying it immediately, to the point that I face palm and curse again under my breath.  
  
 _The hell is he smiling for now?_  
  
"Funny how one is never happy with themselves. I was thinking exactly the same a moment ago, but in reverse: I wish I could pull off something like what you're wearing, and could be thinner and more graceful." _Fuck, you. Just, go, fuck, yourself._  
  
"Oh believe me you don't want to", I want to rip this thing off me and go home, "Victor wouldn't like you anymore", let all this end already.  
  
"What is that supposed mean?"  
  
I quit the conversation without any further explanation or detail because the least I can do to pay him back for all this is leaving him hanging and in doubt, and wear my team jumpsuit over the stupid costume. _You don't deserve to be loved by Victor if you didn't even notice how enthralled by you he is_ , then I put my headphones on so I can listen to the soundtrack.  
  
Warm up. Warm up. My legs feel hibernated. Only a couple of hours at the most and it's all over.   
  
_And there he is._  
  
"We're almost ready to start. Aren't you excited? The most anticipated showdown Hasetsu has ever seen!", _so excited to either go home defeated or see you broken hearted, you have no idea._  
  
"I am trying really hard not to give in to stomachache right now so please don't remind me...", Yuuri speaks, Victor laughs. Victor seems always very amused with whatever Yuuri says, maybe this is what it means to be truly in love, that all it takes is one person in particular and whatever the circumstances. I should know better.  
  
 _Do I really want to break this?_  
  
"Yuri?"  
  
That made me jump.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You've been really quiet", that same concerned voice again, same expression as back then too. It feels like months, no, years ago already.  
  
"Maybe I am trying to focus? What do you think?"  
  
"Hey, no need to bite! How do you like the costume? I haven't even seen you wearing it yet--"  
  
"I hate it", _no space left for naiveties, niceties, nobodies,_ "it makes me feel like a fucking doll", judging from his expression, I guess that hurt somewhere inside of him. I just wanted to be handsome and attractive like Yuuri.  
  
Victor is left there contemplating a solution but we both know it's wasted time considering my performance starts in five minutes and we can't really find a substitute. "I am sorry", he really looks it, more than ever, "I thought--"  
  
"Leave me alone, ok?"  
  
And he just sulks in the corner while I go back to my warming up, which is also useless, like everything else inside these brackets I decided to open here in Japan. Then I must close them, and start over to make sense of it. I must win, to hell everything else. I must win and take him back home. _What else is there left for me, otherwise?_  
  
"Yurio! It's almost time!"  
  
"Okay."  
  
I feel sorry for letting Yuuko down, she was literally the only one being really nice to me during all this time, but I can't help it - as I unzip my hoodie, I must look really miserable - I don't want Victor to see me like this.  
  
Well, at least she doesn't seem too concerned about it.  
  
"It's the see-through costume of legend from Victor's junior days! I never thought I'd see it in person! It's so beautiful...", _yeah, I guess Victor must have looked great in it, he wasn't this thin at my age, and he's blessed with those looks, god, why am I still so young, why was I born this girly, why can't I just look more like--_ "You look really good in it! Good luck!"  
  
Oh, do I?  
 _Do I?_  
  
"It's time! Come on, get going!"  
  
Is it really my turn? Wait, is Victor still there? What is he thinking of me? Do I really look good in this? Can I win? Can you give me a chance? _Is it ok to be scared?_ What if I mess up? _What if I don't?_ Will he hate me? Will he forget? Can we say goodbye? Can I stay? _Can he follow?_ What if I fade away? _What if I have already?_ _What if?_  
  
"Now, a champion with wins in the Junior Grand Prix Final and Junior World Championship. Hoping for a brilliant senior division debut, with programs choreographed by Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky!"  
  
 _I am nothing._  
 _Davai, Yuri, davai._  
 _Sure._  
  
"He will be skating to In regards to love: Agape."  
  
 _Davai, davai._  
 _Do you want me to win or to lose?_  
  
I hate this music. I hate it with all my heart. What do I know of love? I know nothing of it. Is my love legitimate? Is it valid? Is Victor even watching me right this moment? I don't want to know. I don't want to lose. Why can't it be me? I nailed my first jump and I couldn't care less. I don't feel any of this, I am not this, I am better than this. Grandad? Where? How? I can't think of anything. I nailed all my jumps, all of them, I am skating perfectly and yet it means nothing, zero points, I am going to lose no matter what. Just let it end. _I just wanted to be with Victor._ Make it stop. _Give him back, give him back, I was there first, can we go back?_ Can we never go to Sochi? Can we never meet Katsuki Yuuri? The music is gone and I am blinded by the lights above me, I'm burning, I am just like this, burning fast like a shooting star, one moment I'm there and next I'm gone.  
  
"Yurio! That was the best performance I've seen from you so far! Go on, greet the audience!"  
  
Was that Victor?   
Ah, they are e actually cheering for me. So many hands clapping for Yuri, I can hear my name everywhere. Only it's not even my name anymore, _I'm not Yuri, I'm the useless version of Yuri._ Was I good? Was I self-sacrificing and uncalculating enough for you all?  
  
I want to go to Victor but I don't because he's already looking away, towards _the important Yuri_ who appears to be panicky. Are you scared? And am I not scared? If I am fifteen then why am I left alone when I am scared like this? Doesn't it show? Does it not matter? Look at me in the stupid costume, _I wore it for you._  
  
Then they are in front of each other as I am walking in their direction to find a seat and watch Yuuri perform. I think he is crying. _I want to cry too._ They are hugging so beautifully right now, I feel kind of free. Am I? I don't belong to anyone or anywhere, of course I am, I can go anywhere, find anyone. _That is not your place you bastard, I was there first,_ I feel like I want to puke. And I want to go there and punch him in the face until he looks gross and all I can do instead is cover myself up with my jumper again because I don't need to be punched to look it.   
  
Fail, fall, slide, break an arm and a leg, just fail in front of everyone and make Victor realise this is all a lie, it was a lie, he promised to me, he promised to me but he forgot, can you please just go? _Did Victor just whistle at him?_  
  
He's so handsome in that costume, almost over confident, and is skating skilfully like I've never seen him do before. Even I can tell he's pouring all his heart into this, I can hear him think: _I am skating for Victor._ Who wouldn't, can you blame him? He fails the quad Salchow and yet it means nothing, one hundred points, he is going to win no matter what.   
Then there's Victor, who hasn't looked away from him one second, was he this attentive during my program too? Was he this mesmerised? This worried he'd fail and lose? Did he look like he'd turn the world inside out as long as it means keeping him? Did he look this happy when he was looking at me?  
  
Do I want to make him choose?  
 _Do I really want to break this?_  
  
I leave.  
  
In the locker room, I almost rip the costume apart in the process of taking it off. Get off me, get off me. I can't breathe, am I crying? Am I ok? My clothes and my blades are scattered all over the floor _and so am I, so am I._   
In the mirror, I see myself holding onto the sink like my life depended on it. I think I vomited at some point but I don't remember, it feels bitter in my mouth. What am I going to do? What am I going to do? Who won? How does figure skating even matter anymore? Where is Victor? Did he see me leave? _No he didn't, no he didn't._  
We can't even say goodbye so I want to leave a note but I don't know what to write. Should I keep the costume? It's the only thing we shared I've ever owned.  
I leave it on the floor.  
I get dressed in my skin and I never look at the mirror again. I am not crying. I am leaving. You ask _why?_  
  
 _For Victor_ , of course.  
He's always the reason.


	8. epilogue

Yakov said he would see me at the airport once I land. He was not amused, and added salt to the fresh wound with all his _Iknews_ and _Toldyous_ and _Whatdidyouexpects_ but I couldn't care less. I just want somebody, _anybody_ , to take me home once I land in St Petersburg.

I wonder if there are any articles out about this already, I haven't checked. Maybe I should post some cheery picture on my Instagram or tweet a couple of words or something, really, _anything_ , but nothing interesting or funny comes to mind and I don't want to take the risk to see pics of those two together in Hasetsu the moment I access the Internet. I can picture them in my mind clearly: the podium, the spotlight, their smiles, hugging, _victorious_.

Should I text Mila? Or ask Yuuko how things went? _Why did my flight have to be delayed?_

Five hours, _five more fucking hours_ in fucking Japan because of fucking personnel and strikes and whatever that was. I am so angry at everything I might end up punching some member of staff in the face if I try asking for more explanation and with my luck I'd definitely do it in front of the one photographer around who knows who I am.

Two hours down, three more to go. _It never ends._

So here I am in all my glorious defeat, sitting in a corner of Fukuoka airport with my 23% phone battery and no plugs to be seen anywhere _and when am I going to wake up from this nightmare?_ I am thinking, when a very loud roar startles me and every single bystander turns around. _Ah, my ringtone._ I really should change it.

I should also change the fucking background picture of me and Victor hugging in his bed the other morning. I wonder if he will ever look at it from his phone, or have it printed for real. Maybe that was a lie too.

Wait, _Victor?_ Two seconds into trying to unlock the home screen and I am already screaming internally.

_'You left without saying a word. You should have stayed to see the end, at least'_ , no, I should have just stayed in Russia from the beginning.  
  
It's merely a text but I can hear him saying it loud and clear, like an omen, I am a hundred percent sure he didn't understand why I left and might even be angry at me for my supposedly childish behaviour. _Well thank you for telling me off on top of everything else._

_'I didn't know what to say'_ , I lie, and as I send those few words to Victor my legs give in to exhaustion and my whole self, bag and all, ends up in a curled ball of muted pain and nonsense on the floor. Hugging both knees to my chest, all my attempts to stay unperturbed go fuck themselves out of the window and I feel like vomiting again. Even now though, I am not crying. I fear I might have lost the ability to do so, which is even sadder.

_'Did you eat at least?'_ , why would you ask me that? Who cares? How does it matter?

_'I am not hungry'_ , I lie again, because I hope he worries for me at least a tiny bit, while actually I am starving so badly I am even imagining the smell of chicken nuggets right now. Or maybe I am just going completely crazy. _About time._

"That's a shame", _I think my eyes might have just fallen out of their sockets,_ "I heard your flight was delayed so I got us some snacks."

"The fuck are you doing here", I am going through such a huge amount of disbelief I can't even inflect an inquisitional tone to my question, "is this a joke", ok, I definitely did not lose the ability to cry a river when necessary. I am not sure it's a good thing right now, but who am I kidding? There isn't a single thing I am sure about anymore.

"Yuratchka...", he swaps the bag of chicken nuggets for me, a slightly larger but soggy chicken nugget fried in shame and regret, "You shouldn't have left."

Victor is holding me on the floor of Fukuoka airport amidst the crowd and, for one second or two, my troubled mind tricks me into thinking that I won and he's coming back home, although I know it's a lie because I see no luggage.

"But I lost", _why do I feel like I let him down more than myself at this stage?_ , "Yuuri was amazing and you were so mesmerised and you didn't want to leave Japan", _oh no, oh no_ , "I don't want you to hate me for taking you away", _no please no_ , "And I felt so humiliated I wanted to bury myself alive and quit skating for good because I have nobody left to skate for besides myself", _oh, no._

The lucky cheek all over again, and again, _and again_ , "Don't ever say that again", then his grip tightens so much I actually mimic the gesture to loosen it up a minimum, "You were amazing, flawless. The expressions of mute pain you had on your face is burnt into my mind. If you had been there, I don't know what I would have chosen", _what have I done_ , "It would have been extremely hard to pick one over the other. But you saved me from it."

_I saved him?_

"I saved you", it's not a question anymore, once I repeat it out loud and it takes shape in the material world, made manifest. _I am Agape_. I know I did. It was the first selfless choice of my entire life. "But I honestly thought I sucked and Yuuri was going to win by miles", I hope he knows Yuuko was the only one to see me off.

"Not one bit", the way he wipes my face dry with his sleeve makes me feel like a kid but I don't mind, this time, "and god, Yuri, hate me all you want but that costume looked better on you than ever looked on me. You were shining. I couldn't take my eyes off you one second. No one in the audience could."

I suddenly dislike the costume less and my abrupt change of mind also makes me feel like a kid, but I don't mind, not this time.  
  
Am I smiling? I might be. Am I happy? I might be, only just. Will it last? Surely not, but compared to being alone crying at the airport, this is good enough, for now. "I might have to keep skating in sparkly costumes and learn the ways of grace, then."

He seems genuinely happy to hear that himself, or at least I want to think so. He came all the way here to see me off of his own will. True, he didn't travel to a different country just to meet me and I am still the other Yuri, but nonetheless - he has taken time for me to lie some more and shower me in compliments and I don't care. _I don't care._

We spend the next three hours together eating chicken nuggets, drinking coke, window shopping and actually getting some crappy souvenir of Japan for Yakov at a duty free corner booth, walking around the airport like a team, like old friends, like brothers, a little like lovers, arms locked.  
We laugh a lot, we eat some more from a bag of individually wrapped thingies called _mochis_ or something, we browse the bookshop and laugh some more at how crazy some mangas can be. I mean, octopi? _Really?_  
We stop from time to time, we hug, _lucky cheek_ , hug again, keep on walking.  
In my mind, we drop everything and come living in the airport which becomes our home.  
We look at pictures of holiday places from magazines and plan travels we'll never actually put into facts.  
  
We stop by a large window to watch the airplanes taking off, and he says: "When I come back, let's go to Paris and London, then Rome."  
I answer: _"But you are never coming back."_

We hug more, I watch the minutes go by, hope for a million staff strikes so I can have another day of grace. Just one, I swear I'll be happy with one, _one_.

"It's time", he's seeing me off at the gates as they call out names in Japanese and I barely understand anything. Neither of us knows what to say but my cheek is very lucky right now. That kiss was so loud it thundered back and forth inside my head once or twice.

We whisper our _dasvidaniyas_ in each other's ears and neither of us looks back. I know he didn't. I am sure he knows I didn't. Every single piece of me is staying right here in Japan while the hologram of my body gets screened at the metal detector.  
  


But I smile because, when Victor last checked the time on his phone, _I caught a glimpse of the picture of us as his lock-screen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So... This is it, for now! This story truly was a roller coaster of emotions._   
>  _Thanks for sticking with me, for appreciating my writing style, for complimenting the way I convey feelings, and telling me my rendering of the characters was on point. Thanks for supporting my work with your kind words and amazing feedback. I hope to see you all again in the future._
> 
> _Love, Anto._


End file.
